


Built on Ruins

by caffeinechesters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 10:16:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1854355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeinechesters/pseuds/caffeinechesters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean hit puberty, John knew he was going to go to hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Built on Ruins

When Mary died, John felt his world collapse. His beautiful wife was consumed by fire, just ashes amongst the cinder of Sam’s nursery. After he found the truth through Missouri, his life became revenge and taking care of Sam and Dean. 

There were random drunk fucks in dingy barroom bathrooms or in back alleys; it was just a release nothing more. John knew he was going to hell when Dean hit puberty. His oldest looked so much Mary and had her personality. He shouldn't get half-hard when Dean removes his boots and loosens his shirt collar when Dean thinks he’s finally passed out after coming home from the bar. He feels sick when he looks at Dean not as his son but as a substitute for Mary. He feels even worse when his hands find Dean when sober, stroking shoulders, legs, and through his hair and Dean just leans into it, seeming so happy that he paying attention to him.

After Sam left it got worse; he didn’t have Sam’s judging eyes, like he knew what was going through his head. Maybe Sam felt the same pull to Dean, but he wouldn’t mull over that thought for long. Dean had changed since Sam’s departure: more sullen, bursts of anger, and falling into bed with anyone that would have him. John, normally after finding revelations in the bottle of Jack Daniel, would think it could, it would, be so easy for him to get Dean in his bed, or at least in the stall of the hole-in-wall bar they would be in. He cut himself off after that, grumbling to Dean that he was calling it a night and going back to room. He would go back to the room eventually, after he found a prostitute, that resembled Dean, and paid for a quick blow job. A couple of times Dean got back before him, he give him a worried look, but all John could feel was the guilt wash over him.

It was until four years after Sam left, that Dean, drunk and pliant, came to him, slurring his words about how he knew. He wasn’t dumb, he saw the way John started to look at him at 14, he knew about his father getting hard when Dean helped him undress when drunk, and he knew about the lookalike prostitutes in hourly motels or in the back of the impala. John felt cold, numb when Dean kissed him, he had to stop this, even if it played into every perverse fantasy he’s had for the past decade. He pushed Dean back, back onto the bed, where Dean looked hurt, every bit of a lost boy, sprawled on his back, lidded eyes and swollen lips. He had to get away. John needed to make things right. That’s when he decided he had to leave. There was a woman in white in Jericho, far enough away from this motel room. When Dean passed out, he wrote a note about going to Jericho, but there was a hunt nearby for Dean to work. John hopes that Dean will be obedient and follow his orders.

This was his family and it was built on ruins.

**Author's Note:**

> This idea struck me while I sitting in traffic and wouldn't leave until I wrote it down. It's unbeta'd so if you catch any error please tell me. Thank you for reading.


End file.
